


Reprieve

by dirtroaddance



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Number Five | The Boy, Hurt/Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Post-Season 2, bros being soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25756765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtroaddance/pseuds/dirtroaddance
Summary: "Don't think I haven't noticed you're acting, like, really weird," Diego says, standing up.Five scowls - finally,  a familiar face - but just as quickly relaxes it back into a confused raised eyebrow. "Weird how?""Like 80% less prickly, and scarily calm."-Post-Season 2, Diego and Five share a moment.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves
Comments: 37
Kudos: 1014





	Reprieve

"Do either of you know where the nearest drugstore is? The neighborhood looks so different from the last time I was here." Five calls from the bathroom of their shitty motel room.

After arriving in their not-home in 2019 and coming face to face with the Sparrow Academy, the Hargreaves siblings had done the sensible thing and fled. A 'tactical retreat' as Diego had called it. They had grabbed the nearest motel they could afford with the funds they could scrounge together, and were now at a bit of a loss for what their next move should be.

"On the corner two blocks West from the Academy," Luther replies before Diego can stop him, too busy contemplating what year ‘last time I was here’ could even be, and immediately there is the telltale whoosh of Five jumping away. Diego throws a pillow at him.

"Dude, _ask why_ before letting him go. There's nothing the little asshole could be after at the drugstore that isn't at least a little worrying."

"Medical supplies level worrying, or lethal poison level worrying?"

"Knowing Five? Both."

Luther sighs and sinks down against the headboard of the bed closest to the window. "Why'd _we_ get stuck with him anyway?"

"The girls wanted Klaus, for some reason," Diego shrugs. 

"I'd take Klaus over that tiny ball of murder any day."

There is another whoosh and a clatter, and Five is back in the bathroom, muttering to himself. Diego glances at Luther, who shakes his head slowly.

"No way, I'm not going in there," he whispers.

Diego glares at him for a moment, then groans and reluctantly rises to his feet. Before he can change his mind, he crosses the room and raps twice on the flaking bathroom door.

"Hey Five… you, uh, doing okay in there?"

"Fine!" Comes the abrupt reply. It lacks Five's usual defensive bite though, which is promising, but Diego knows better than to trust his littlest brother's definition of 'fine'. He gives the handle a jiggle, and finding it unlocked, gives it a turn.

"I'm coming in!" He announces, swinging open the door with perhaps a little more force than completely necessary. 

Five is stood at the sink in just his crisp uniform shirt, the blazer, sweater and tie strewn over the side of the tub. He's staring down at himself, shirt unbuttoned, as he slowly peels away a blood-spotted dressing from his side. He doesn't look up at the sound of the door, but sighs.

"Diego, I really can handle it. Go get some rest."

"Is- is that your injury from 2019? The last time we were there, I mean."

Five hums an affirmative, removing the last of the gauze with a quick and decisive movement. Diego had kind of assumed that Five had landed in 1963 around the same time as him and just taken a few weeks to find everybody, but judging by how recent the wound looks, it occurs to him that Five has probably been at this non-stop since his first untimely arrival in the present day. No wonder the guy looks exhausted. 

His littlest-oldest brother in question is dabbing at his injury with rubbing alcohol, not even flinching at what must sting a fair amount, but there is a slight shake to his hands. Without thinking, Diego reaches to take the supplies off him.

"Here, let me do that," he says. 

And Five… doesn't protest? 

Now _that_ is worrying. 

Diego quickly takes stock. The stitches are still intact, a miracle in itself considering all the activity of the past few days, but the area around the wound is red and inflamed, and hot to the touch.

"How long's it been infected?" He asks, wiping over the stitches as gently as he can as Five leans back against the sink.

"Dunno. This is the first time I've had a moment to check. It's fine though, I grabbed antibiotics from the store."

While not the healthiest of responses, that was a relatively honest and non-evasive answer, considering. Diego frowns, and reaches up to feel Five's brow. Slightly warm, but not dangerously so. He frowns harder as he begins applying fresh gauze.

"Right, so what is it you're not telling me?"

"Huh?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed you're acting, like, really weird," Diego says, standing up.

Five scowls - finally, a familiar face - but just as quickly relaxes it back into a confused raised eyebrow. "Weird how?"

"Like 80% less prickly, and scarily calm."

Five stares at him for a moment, and then laughs. Like, _actually_ laughs, in a way Diego hasn't heard since they were kids far younger than the face Five is currently wearing. Diego looks at him like he's grown an extra head.

"I'm _relieved_ Diego," he chokes out when he's done laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. "That's all. For the first time in forty-five years, the world isn't _literally ending_. You guys are alive. I mean, don't get me wrong, this situation isn't perfect, but as long as you're here, and civilization exists, it's fixable."

Despite the broad grin on his face, Five is swaying on his feet slightly, and the tears in his eyes haven't gone away. Oh god, is he _crying_? Diego is 100% sure he is not prepared to handle this if that’s the case.

"This is literally the least stressed I've been since I was thirteen years old. How sad is that?" Five is laughing again, this time bordering a little on the hysterical, and Diego takes one look at his wrung-out, traumatized, long-lost brother before throwing his arms around him.

It's awkward - neither of them are big huggers, really - but Five doesn't pull away. Just stands there, as if not quite sure how to react.

"Thank you," Diego murmurs into his brother's hair. 

"W-what?"

"Thank you for coming back to save us. Twice. We'd be fucked if you hadn't."

Five is silent for a few seconds, then lets out a choked sob. 

"I've seen you die three times now. I buried you. I just- I can't- I-" he takes a deep breath. "Stopping the apocalypse and keeping you from dying has been my whole life. I couldn't save Ben, and every day I'll be rewriting the equations, wondering… but to even have one of you guys back, let alone almost everyone - it's more than I could have ever hoped for."

He takes a deep breath and wipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve. Diego, stunned by the exchange, loosens his hold.

"Apologies for that display," Five says, straightening up. And despite the clearly tear-stained face, his expression is back to that neutral calm of a few minutes ago. He doesn't back away from Diego's arms, though, and the ghost of physical affection hangs between them. "I'm… unused to having a moment to breathe. What do I even do?”

Diego snorts. "Well considering the shitshow of a week it's been and the fact that you're pretty busted up, I'd say turning in for the night might be top of the list, old-timer."

Five cracks a smile. "A novel concept. But I'm willing to try."

He re-buttons his shirt and kicks off his shoes, leaving them discarded somewhere near the questionable toilet. "After you, mon frere."

Not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, Diego opens the bathroom door and slips out, Five following close behind after dry-swallowing an antibiotic pill. Diego makes a mental note to have words with him later about prescriptions and medical professionals, but knows when to pick his battles and tonight has been a miracle in and of itself.

Luther, still sat on the far side of the room, is trying his best to seem engrossed in an old takeout menu, and definitely _not_ staring. But when Five gets into bed of his own accord, all pretenses are lost and Luther whips his head round to look, eyebrows practically on the ceiling. 

Diego, for his part, smirks at the sight, and for the briefest of moments allows it to slip into a genuine smile.

**Author's Note:**

> God I loved Season 2 so much but hoo boy do the siblings need some more hugs (and also therapy tbh).


End file.
